


(You remain) my power, my pleasure, my pain

by doks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Brother/Sister Incest, Crime Family, F/M, Fake Politics, Organized Crime, Romance, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doks/pseuds/doks
Summary: Ned Stark, a drug lord, finds out that he has terminal cancer and has to choose among his children who is going to succeed him. It doesn’t take him long, however, to see that the best choice is his bastard son Jon Snow. A cold, brooding man striving to find his place, while hiding a secret passion he feels for his sister Sansa.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 36
Kudos: 134





	1. You became the light on the dark side of me

“It’s cancer.” He heard the doctor saying as if it was a dream. The words floated around his head dazedly as he sat back on his chair, gripping the arm with his fingers until the knuckles turned white. “You should have come here earlier. We can’t do anything now.”

The doctor looked at the screen of his computer detachedly and continued “We can try chemotherapy, but the treatment might not work and the side effects are harsh. It’s your choice.”

Ned Stark has never been this scared before. He faced actual gang wars when he was younger, had enemies so close to him that the blood spilled on his face, but this was what he feared the most. Being defeated by his own body, killed from the inside.

“No.” He said with his voice coarse. “I go when I go. How long do I have?”

“I can’t answer that, Lord Stark.” He answered coldly. “I’ll prescript medicines for your headache.” He started to type, not facing Ned.

And just like this, his life changed forever.

Eddard Stark walked his way to the car parked in front of the hospital. There was still a fog clouding his thoughts, his headache didn’t help either.

“Home, Lord Stark?” His driver asked.

He took a long breath and said “Yes, Yoren. Home.”

The way to his estate took an eternity. There was uneasiness in his stomach, an ache in his heart that seemed a lot like nostalgia. Would this be the last time that he made his way home? He knew it was unlikely that he would die so soon, but he couldn’t help struggle with the finality that was death itself. He didn’t know when, but knew it would come soon.

Ned put a hand to his heart and tugged, he would have to tell this to his family. Catelyn, the love of his life. How could he ever leave her? How would she fare without him? How would she react? Would his children take care of her when he was gone? He couldn’t think about this, he thought, this would kill him faster.

He needed to plan. Which one of his children could succeed him? Continue his legacy? His older boy, Robb, was a 26 year old lawyer. He gifted his son a complete practice office when he passed the bar, but he couldn’t make a penny out of if, since all his clients are pro bono. Ned feels a little disappointed, since he still lives by the money in his trust fund, but at the same time it makes him proud that he would dedicate himself with helping the poor and neglected. Money was not an issue, they could afford Robb’s pro bono practice.

Ned thought about how Robb’s personality was nothing like his. When his own father first told him about the family business, Ned took it in his own hands the power to handle their legacy. After his brother’s death, he was the only one his father trusted. So he took care of their connections, dealt with corrupt politicians, killed small drug dealers who thought that could outsmart his operations. He handled it all.

But would his children do the same? He thought he would have more time to teach them. He thought that Robb would stop pretending that their family didn’t commit crimes as a living and come home. But he never did. Now he has to drag his ass home and give him a crash course.

Jon and Arya were the only ones that understood the business from the start. Jon studied law beside Robb, but he never left home. He worked for them, took care that they would always be covered by some loophole when they got caught, or even decided to terminate the life of some men who eventually threatened to spill secrets. Jon was the only one who was not afraid to get his hands bloodied. A true Stark, Ned thought, even though he never registered him.

Arya never went to college. When she graduated from high school, she asked him to learn more about his business, which she knew roughly that was unlawful, but she impressed him with the way she could detach herself from the ugliness that it often entailed. Ned, however, would always try to protect her from the truth terror that it could be, something he’s never done to Jon.

Sansa, his oldest daughter, the Stark princess. She was graduating from college the next month, he was always proud of her. She was sensible, smart, and so very beautiful. Just like her mother. Ned told her about his work when she was 16, since then she ignores everything about it and he is glad for once, she wasn’t supposed to know any of this. She was supposed to be carefree, marry some millionaire and bare grandchildren for him and Cat spoil rot.

Another ache. He would never meet these imaginary grandchildren. He wouldn’t even give her away to some groom. Would Robb fulfill his spot? Would Jon? She had her brothers to take care of her, at least. Even Arya, they never got along too well, but they were undeniably sisters. They had each other’s back.

The twins were far too young to know anything. Bran and Rickon were only 8 and spent more time at school than actually at home. Cat’s decision. She was way too old to run after children, that’s what she told him when she decided to enroll them in their private school. From eight until six. She felt very guilty about this, he knew. Her last pregnancy caught them all by surprise, Ned thought they were done, and Cat was certain she couldn’t even bare children anymore. Though she was happy, two at once was too much at the age of 47.

Ned braced himself when Yorin parked the car in front of the house. Would he tell them today? Sansa wasn’t home, neither was Robb. Maybe it was wise to wait. He saw Jon waiting for him in front of the entrance and that was never a good sign.

“Stannis.” Jon said simply and Ned almost rolled his eyes.

“What did he do this time?” He said walking with his son by his side.

“The senate approved his proposal.” Jon said low. “We can’t donate money to politicians next election.”

“What?” Ned stopped walking. His fury barely hidden. “Why would those fools approve this?”

“You know why.” Jon said detached.

He knew. They were losing influence, someone as rich as him donating money to politicians was like admitting guilt. And there is this new player that he never could approach. She was young, sympathetic, had a tragic past. Very popular. Her speeches against corruption gained popularity and now he is the one to suffer, they would never be able to continue their business without bribing those filthy politicians.

“Stannis is a fool.” Ned told his son. “He will never win without our help.” Jon continued walking as if his father hadn’t said anything. Ned followed him, knowing it was better to shut up until they were in his office.

“He is no Robert.” Ned continued. “People hate him. He’s a fool.” He repeated.

“Father, if he loses, we are done.” Jon said, knowing that even though Stannis wasn’t exactly corrupt, he wouldn’t come after them, since Robert’s dirt would spill on him. “Daenerys doesn’t even answer our calls.”

“That bitch.” He sighed.

“We should plan for the worst.” Jon said. “Sansa and Lady Stark. They have to be safe.”

“I know. We should plan for us all, Jon.” He poured a glass of whiskey.

“They are the priority.” Jon insisted. He was right. Sansa and Cat were true ladies, they would never survive jail. Arya would escape even without their help. She probably already has a backup plan.

“Do you have any good news at all?” He asked Jon.

“The best news I can give you is that Arya broke up with that guard. Is it good enough?” Jon said with a grin. Ned laughed out loud with that.

“That is indeed great news. We drink for that.” He responded pouring Jon a glass.

Arya was seeing a boy that guarded their house at night. He would often be found in her room instead of in his duty, which infuriated Ned for so many reasons. Now he can move the boy without having a whiny Arya on his heels.

Jon should know, Ned thought darkly with his bad mood returning. Robb should be their leader, but what does he know about their business? Jon was his father’s pride. Ned often wondered how it was possible that he was so much like him.

Cat still couldn’t deal with the fact that he had brought a baby home 25 years ago. Ned was involved in Robert’s first run to governor, his opponent was Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenerys’ brother. It was like the past was repeating itself. Ned used to bribe both sides, always. That way you never lose. But Rhaegar was an honest little shit. He never took money from him, even though he offered more than he did for Robert.

There was no other way out, he had to get Robert elected. He went out on campaign with his friend, paid for everything, cars, people to go door to door, propaganda on TV. He paid people to come up with the most absurd of rumors, that they committed incest, that they were crazy, that they burned people alive. It was all fair game. Even the Lannisters helped.

Rhaegar lost the election. His reputation got ruined and he couldn’t handle his life anymore, ended up killing himself a few days after the results.

“Why haven’t you answered your phone?” Ned was out of his reverie by hearing his wife’s voice. “I was worried sick.”

“Sweetheart.” He said prompting Jon to leave his office. “I was working.” He lied. It was so easy lying to her. He often wondered if she noticed.

“Ned. I know you went to see doctor Tarly. What did he say? I never liked that man, his horribly frowny face makes me angry.”

“I’m fine.” He lied again. “Cholesterol rates are high though.” He said approaching her, pulling her to his chest.

“You have to take care of yourself, my husband.” She said kissing his cheek.

“Why? I have a perfect wife that does that for me.” He said pushing her back into his desk. “Would you, love, take care of your husband?” She smirked when he pushed her dress up, caressing her thighs.

“Only if you take care of me first.” She said and smiled when he got on his knees.

* * *

He was… nervous? Jon waited outside of the car, looking at his watch every five seconds. It has been almost eight months that he hasn’t seen her and his nerves were a wreck. He knew it wasn’t becoming of him to feel like this for his own sister, but he simply couldn’t help himself. Since that fateful night, after her high school graduation party.

She was beautiful. Sansa wore a pink dress that showed him the curves on her body, showed him that she was a child no longer. Ned had put him on chaperone duty, so his daughter would get home safely, hopefully still a maiden (his father’s words).

Jon, however, did a poor job. He purposefully lost sight of her, so she would have the freedom to drink herself to oblivion, have fun with her friends without a big brother on her back, like he and Robb had done when they graduated. And Sansa didn’t disappoint. It was probably the first time she’s ever gotten drunk, terribly so.

He sighed and put his sister in the car, so many years ago, and brought her home in silence. He took care of her, changed her, put her to bed. But she did something that would haunt his dreams forever. Lying on her back, Sansa tugged his black tie around her fingers and pulled him into a sloppy kiss with lips, teeth and tongue. Jon was frozen in place, didn’t have the strength to stop her, but he didn’t kiss her back either. Before he could do anything, Sansa left his mouth and whispered “Gods, you’re so hot.” She turned around on the bed and said “Good night, Jon.” Still in shock, he stayed beside her bed for a few minutes yet, his body couldn’t obey his mind screaming that he had to get the hell out of there. His eyes roaming her body as if it was the first time he was seeing her.

She didn’t remember anything about the night in the morning after, and for this, he was glad.

After that, however, she became a new person altogether to him, the woman who haunted his nights. He was a green boy himself, then, he had never been with a girl, so his sister became a sort of obsession. He thought about her constantly, daydreamed about her body, about touching those very curves he started to notice. It never got any easier, since she would only grow more beautiful, smarter, kinder. She was everything that he wasn’t. He knew he was a foul creature, a beast, whilst she was a beauty.

They had never been close to begin with. Her mother’s distaste for him passed to her when she was a child and Jon ate up their disgust for him, never talking back, never responding to the names Lady Stark called him, “bastard” was her favorite nickname for him. Sansa was never mean to him, it was more that she ignored him most of time.

He looked at his watch again. Their relationship got better when he left for law school and they only saw each other on birthdays and holidays. The distance waned the intensity of his feelings for her, he got around to have girlfriends himself, but those relationships never lasted too long. Jon was sure he could never want someone as much as he wanted Sansa, though, and this put a damper in his plans of getting married and having children.

He patted his hip to secure his gun, a compulsive behavior, touched the inside of his pocket and leaned against the black car’s door. A text from his father _Robb arrived, where are you?_ He was prepared to reply, but suddenly he saw legs that went on for miles. His heart beat fast and his hands started to sweat. Still a green boy, he thought, when it came to his sister.

Her red hair was loose, her sundress was short and colorful and she looked directly into his eyes. He forgot to breathe. He watched her walking his way with a smile on her lips and his mind screamed that he had to keep it together, so he found his wits again and smiled back, walking a step away from the car in her direction.

Sansa all but jumped into his arms, surprising him. He caught her in a hug so tight that he almost lost his footing. “I missed you, Jon” She said into his ear, surprising him once again.

“Me too, sister.” he smiled warmly. There was no one else who could make him smile so easily. Arya would always tell him that his face would freeze in a frown if he continued brooding so often.

“I can’t believe I’m going back home.” She said when Jon opened the door for her.

“Your lady mother misses you very much.” Jon said starting the car. He knew Lady Stark insisted that Sansa should come back home after graduating college. She had no need to work and he faintly agreed that it was safer if she was around, though it would be a sweet punishment to have her so close.

“What would I do with an English major anyway?” She asked looking ahead while her brother drove.

“You could write a book.” He said in jape. “Maybe about a crime family.”

Sansa grimaced at his words. She much preferred to ignore that part of her family, but she knew that this was Jon’s whole life, being their father’s right hand, so she said nothing and a certain tension built inside the car.

They never had much in common anyway, silence has always felt better. Sansa was like a doll, sensible, beautiful and very proper. She never said anything when something displeased her, choosing to build a cold wall around herself. Jon was used to it, most of times he faced that wall since he would always say something that made her uncomfortable.

“Do you know why father wants to gather the family?” She asked after a while.

“My guess is that he misses you and Robb.” Jon answered. “He’s been a little nostalgic lately.”

Sansa nodded and started typing something on her phone.

“He’s talking a lot about the past.” He started again. “He told me your mother dated his brother Brandon, did you know that?”

“What?!” She all but jumped on her seat. “My mother and his brother?”

Laughing, he continued. “Apparently he met her years after his brother was killed and they… got together.”

“Mother, huh.” she grinned. “Why did father tell you this?”

“I have no idea, he’s been telling all sorts of stories about the past lately.”

“Is he alright?” She asked.

“He’s fine.” Jon answered. “Business is… difficult.”

“Right.” She said, not really wanting to ask anything about it.

Another long silence.

“Hey Jon.” She started and he hummed. “Can you forgive me for being mean to you when we were kids?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Sansa.”

“It’s so unfair the way we treated you. Especially mother.” She said very low.

“I understand why she’s like that. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not your fault that father was a cheater.” She said angrily and Jon gulped.

“It’s alright, Sansa, really. I’m over it.” He said and another silence stretched.

“How’s Robb?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him.” He said looking ahead.

“Me neither.” She looked at Jon for a while. “He’s dating someone, isn’t he?”

“Jeyne something.” He answered. “She didn’t come though. Father didn’t allow it.”

“What? Are you serious?” Sansa asked in surprise.

“I don’t know why.” He never really asks about his father’s motives.

“Something’s not right, Jon. What did he tell you exactly?” She asked and Jon tried very hard not to agree with her, he knew something was off, but his mind refused to wander on these dark places.

“We’re almost home, Sansa. You can ask him yourself when we get there.” He said a little more harshly than he intended.

Another silence.

“How’s Arya?” She tried again.

“Wild.” He said simply and she chuckled gracefully. Jon almost sighed longingly at the sound she made. “She’s good. Father relies on her a lot. I do too.” Sansa nodded.

“The boys?”

“Loud.”

“I miss them.” She said looking at the window. She could already see their mansion.

“We’re here.” Jon said pulling over.

* * *

Sansa arrived with Jon with a strained smile. Ned always thought their relationship a little odd. There was always some sort of tension, like they didn’t know how to act around each other. If he didn’t know better…

“Father!” Sansa yelled running his way. Oh, his princess. Arya was a girl too, his youngest, but she was nothing like his princess. Sansa was the only one he could treat with dresses, makeup, purses and shoes, so many shoes. She was the epitome of femininity. Her hugs and kisses made his heart warmer, softened his sharp edges.

“Come inside, darling. Your mother misses you.” He said holding her arm tenderly. He looked behind them and saw Jon watching Sansa carefully. Ned narrowed his eyes and called his name. “Jon. Robb wants to see you.”

Tearing his eyes away from Sansa, Jon nodded and stepped inside the house.

He saw his family being reunited at last. Robb and Jon were hugging each other with big smiles on their faces. Arya sat on the sofa, silently drinking some beverage she should be too young to know how to appreciate. Sansa and her mother were sharing happy tears. They all turned to the stairs when two boys screamed “Robb!” and “Sansa!” excitedly and not for the first time that day, Ned felt like crying. 

Such a waste, he thought, to leave this beautiful family behind.

After spending some time catching up, the Starks walked their way to the dining room. Discreetly, Ned calls Jon’s attention, “Tell the guards to leave us. Give them the rest of the day.” Jon stares at Ned with a questioning look, but obeys dutifully.

“I know you must be wondering why I brought you all here.” Ned starts, sitting in his usual chair on the head of the table. On his right side, Cat sits with their hands joined. Next to Cat, Sansa sits with her back straight. On Ned’s left side, Robb sits looking at his father and next to him Jon shares a look with Arya, who sits across from him, on Sansa’s right side. He knows something is wrong and Arya can feel it too. “I’m afraid I don’t have good news.”

“Ned…” Cat says worriedly.

“My love, listen, please.” He says low, looking at his wife. “I’m not well.” He says vaguely, with his courage draining.

“Father, what do you mean?” Robb speaks with wide eyes.

“I have terminal cancer.” Ned states plainly. He gets up from his chair and looks down to his wife, who seems to not have heard what he said. A silence hangs on the room and he can’t help but feel guilty for saying the news a little too straightforwardly.

“I’m not going to live long.” He finishes.

“Father…” Sansa says with her eyes starting to water. There is nothing to say, Ned thinks, not really.

He gave his family a minute so the news would sink. Cat still looked at him as if he wasn’t speaking English. Sansa and Robb had those Tully blue eyes as big as oranges. Arya and Jon had nothing but dread in their eyes, like they knew something like this was going to happen. Did they suspect? They were the people who knew him the best, so it wasn’t farfetched that they would know that something was wrong with him.

“Father, there are treatments…” Sansa starts, but Ned cuts her off.

“It’s too advanced. There’s no treatment.”

“There must be something we can do.” Robb says indignantly. “You can’t accept defeat like this.”

“My son…” Ned speaks looking at Robb. “I wish I could live longer to teach you about the business. I wish you were interested.”

“How long do you still have?” Jon asks with detachment. “We have to prepare.”

“Why are you talking about this now? Jon, you can’t be serious!” Robb shouts and gets up from his chair.

“He’s right, son. We have to prepare. Because my eldest knows nothing about his family’s wealth. Because you, Robb, refuse to accept that drugs paid for your education. That drugs still pay for your little practice where you pretend to be a hero of the poor. Open your eyes, son. Drugs have always put food on your plate and a roof over your head. It’s time you face it, you’re not a boy anymore.”

Robb shamefully averts his eyes and says nothing more. “You too, Sansa, my darling. You must stay near your sister and Jon, they’ll protect you. You will, won’t you Jon? Will you protect my daughter and my wife? Despite of the past, please, son, tell me you will protect them.” He begs with tears finally pouring on his cheeks.

Jon gives his father a long look, but finally nods and says “You needn’t ask. I’ll protect them with my life.”

“Arya, my wild girl. I’m so very proud of you. You must know this. You still have so much to learn, I wish I could stay around to teach you more.” This time Arya is the one who starts to cry, which intensifies Ned’s own crying.

“You have to take my seat, son.” Ned says looking at Jon. “You have to take over after me. There’s no one else I trust more.”

Jon looks surprised at his father. He knew Ned always planned for Robb to succeed him, he was certain he would be always the right hand. “Father… I’m not, I can’t. I’m not a Stark.”

“But you are, son. You are _my_ son, Jon. Mine!” Jon only nods his head and looks at Arya.

“Sweetheart.” He says softly to his wife. “Please, look at me.” She was quiet the whole time, looking at her empty plate. “You are going to be alright. You have to, Cat. The boys need their mother.” Ned thought they were too young to receive the news like this. They would talk to them later.

“You can’t leave me, Ned… You can’t.” She says with her voice coarse, the crying stuck in her throat.

“I’m not leaving you, my love. I’m dying.” The words were harsh, but she had to know that if he had a choice, he would take her with him.

And she cried and cried and cried. Sansa was crying too, openly and loudly. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was done. There was nothing else he could do. He saw Robb being comforted by Jon, who hadn’t shed a tear yet. He was right, they had to prepare for the worst.

“Our future is uncertain.” Ned says again when he feels that the crying was stopping. “I’ve prepared a way out for all of you. There are fake IDs, passports, money and I recently bought a cabin that would serve as a rendezvous place should you need it.” He looked inside his pocket and gave them each a key to a storage vault.

“Jon, you have to make sure that our legacy stays intact. You will only use these keys if everything fails. This” he points to the ceiling of their mansion “this is worth preserving. You have to work together, otherwise we’ll lose everything. Robb, you will close your office and you’re helping your brother. Be his right hand.” He turned to Arya. “My girl, be your brother’s left hand if he needs it. You know he will.” he gave her a weak smirk and Arya couldn’t return it.

“Sansa, trust your family. They will protect you.” He gave Jon a knowing nod that made him shiver. “I want you to know that I couldn’t have asked for a better family. You all make me very proud.” He finishes and leaves the room.

* * *

Jon was smoking a cigarette outside of the house. The wind was cold and harsh, but he felt numb. His father was dying and thrust him more responsibility than he ever asked for. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t prepared to lose the only parent he’s ever had.

Robb must think he is a usurper. Maybe not, though. Probably not. He never wanted anything to do with his family’s business, he’s probably relieved.

He finishes his cigarette and never notices that he was lighting another one. Arya should be his right hand. What does Robb know anyway? He could barely help with the law issues. Arya was much more useful. But he wasn’t saying that. Ever.

Blowing another cloud of smoke, Jon heard steps behind him. Consciously he knew he was safe at home. Half a dozen snipers were watching him at that very moment. He couldn’t help but put a hand on his holster, however.

“It’s your father.” Ned says lightly and Jon releases his hand turning around. “You shouldn’t smoke.”

“You should be with your wife.”

“She took all the pills she could without ending herself.” He said lightening his own cigarette. “She’s sleeping soundly.”

Jon only hummed.

“You didn’t cry.” Ned said sounding a little bit offended.

“I’m not the crying kind.” Jon responded shortly.

“Stannis will come around.” Talking about work with Jon was always the safest path. “Don’t give up on him. He has to win the next election.”

“I’m not so sure.” Jon said. “Varys told me he was being influenced by some priestess.” He dragged on his cigarette. “He fucks her.”

“Women and religion. The two things that make a man lose his mind.” Ned said almost thanking the Gods that he wouldn’t be around to take care of that mess. “Be careful, Jon.”

“I always am.”

“Take care of my wife. I know I failed in protecting you from her. I know I was wrong, Jon. But you must protect her.” He said almost desperately, like he isn’t sure Jon will follow through with his promise.

“I already said I will. I’m not a liar.”

Ned nodded and turned to leave.

“Father.” Jon called, Ned stopped and turned again to face him. “I want to know who she is. My mother.”

Ned looks at him with a face that Jon can’t interpret. A face of sorrow and disappointment. Fear, maybe.

“We’re having breakfast together tomorrow morning. I’m going to tell you all about your mother. I promise.” Jon nodded and watched him leave. He looked up at the moon high in the sky and lighted another cigarette.

The next morning, he was woken up by a sobbing Robb.

His father never rose again.

_To be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up:  
> A wedding  
> A bedding  
> A death


	2. You're like a growing addiction that I can't deny

He saw his brother Robb comforting Sansa while they watched Ned’s casket descending into the ground. Lady Stark didn’t cry anymore, Arya told him that she’s been taking pills and it’s very clear to him that she is somewhere else completely. Her eyes were glassy, her hands shook and she looked like she aged at least ten years overnight.

Arya never showed up to her father’s burial. She told him that she had already said her goodbyes and he never pressed.

Jon still hasn’t cried.

In the previous morning, when Robb woke him up with the news, he was too much in shock to feel anything. His mind locked away all the sadness to make place for a more practical feeling: duty. He didn’t expect any of Ned’s children to take care of a service.

At least he died peacefully, Jon thought. He was next to the woman that he loved his whole life. Jon supposed that this was the best a man like himself and his father could ever expect. He’s met better men killed by their own guards in their resting bed. A messy, bloody and humiliating death. At least the Gods spared his father of such fate.

When it was over, he opened the door of the limousine and watched Lady Stark, Sansa, Robb and the twins enter the car. He told Yorin that they should go straight home, but he would stay in the cemetery for a while longer. He had unfinished business to discuss with Ned. The driver nodded respectfully and said simply “You’re going to make him proud.”

Watching the black limousine leave, Jon finally felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt his shoes filling up with water from the mud that formed under the grass and walked slow steps until he was in front of Ned’s grave.

With a coarse voice, he started “I don’t know if I’m strong enough, father.” He was crying honest tears now. “I’m not who you think I am.” Jon felt like was never trained to be their leader, Robb was the one to do this, not him. He knew from the beginning that his father favored his elder trueborn son. Not him, the boy from a faceless woman that never cared to know if he was dead or alive. “I will try my best, but I don’t know if it’s going to be enough.” He said still crying.

Jon stayed there for hours, like a statue, looking at his father’s grave as if he was mentally talking to the stone. He stopped crying eventually and his face became as unfeeling as the grave itself. 

When he finally arrived home, Jon found Arya waiting for him in their father’s former office. It was Jon’s now.

“How are you?” She asked. Her face was somber and Jon tugged his hand into her shoulders.

“How are you?” He asked back as they embraced. Arya started to cry on his shoulder with heavy tears wetting his black suit.

Neither of them ever answered that question.

Eventually they let go of each other and Jon poured them glasses of whiskey.

“He’s in a better place.” Jon said.

“I doubt it.” Arya replied finishing up her drink in one sip. “We have to talk.”

Jon simply looked over at his sister and she continued. “The shipment will arrive soon. It can’t stay at the docks for more than one day. Joe and Rony are supposed to make sure no one finds out about the drugs.” They were shipping a million dollar worth of cocaine to Europe in a container.

“You don’t trust them.” Jon said. It wasn’t a question.

“They never messed up with father, you know it…”

“But…?”

“He’s dead now. Some of our partners may want to take advantage of that.”

Jon nodded and looked at the window. It didn’t rain the night Ned died. He’s read somewhere that when a good person died, the skies cried. “I’ll put some of our men to oversee their work. This can’t go wrong.” He sipped his drink. “I’ll call Ser Rodrik.”

Arya nodded and Jon felt her eyes observing him. “Do you think we can do this without him?”

“Yes.” She replied without even thinking, which boosted his confidence immediately.

“Thank you, Arya.” He turned around to see her mocking a curtsey and leaving the office.

* * *

Jon was still not used to hear their men call him “boss”. Varys, their chief of intelligence, stopped calling him Jon altogether and now calls him Lord Snow. It was respect, Arya told him, but Jon couldn’t help but feeling like they were betraying his father. The man died only a couple of months prior and they already trusted a new boss so easily.

Of course Arya would hit him in the head and tell him that he had been around his father since the day Jon was born, so of course they would trust Ned Stark’s son, especially after all the good work Jon showed when his father was still alive.

Jon was not super comfortable working in his father’s office either, sitting in his desk, using his computer. It all felt like a betrayal. But he knew it wasn’t that, his father openly chose him to succeed him, he was merely fulfilling Ned’s wishes. But the bad feeling never really went away.

Lady Stark couldn’t agree more. The woman was a ghost after her husband died, but when she was sober, without the pills, she would take all her rage on Jon, constantly repeating that he was not Ned and that he would never be good enough to continue his legacy. Jon was used to her open hatred, but this time was different. She was seeing with her very eyes the one thing she had always dreaded: Jon Snow taking the place that was rightfully her children’s.

But it wasn’t that often that they had arguments, she ignored him and he ignored her. Most of times, she was weeping in the master bedroom, being comforted by Sansa and her drugs. It was easy for Jon when she was locked in her room, that way he wouldn’t have to ignore her heated stare, like it was his fault that she was a widow now.

They had occasional loud arguments when Jon made a decision that bothered her, like when he hired a professional self-defense teacher to teach Sansa how to shoot and fight. She was adamant that he was up to corrupt her princess daughter, when all he wanted was to keep her safe.

“You are not making her a murderer like you.” she said, practically screaming, while he stood in front of her trying to remain neutral.

“I’m trying to protect her.” He responded evenly.

“You should do as my husband would! Hire men to protect her, not put a gun in her hand. She’s a Lady!” She screamed.

“Aye, she’s a Lady. But she needs to know how to keep herself safe if something happens.” He said. “Father would have approved.” He told her, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Ned never said anything about giving Sansa a gun.

“You can’t even keep your promise to my husband!”

“I’m trying to!”

And he left her. Jon knew it was the best course of action and Sansa herself seemed willing enough to learn. It was time that she was in charge of her own protection, she told him.

He still had six of their most loyal men to follow her everywhere, though.

One day, she asked him to go shopping with her. Of course he didn’t have the time, or the patience, to go to the mall and spend money with frivolous decoration objects or… sheets. But she asked him to go with her and he couldn’t refuse her anything. She had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it.

“You shouldn’t argue with her.” Sansa said while choosing bed linen. Jon didn’t know at first of whom she was speaking of, but it hit him quickly enough.

“Trust me, the last thing I want is to speak to your mother.” He said a bit harshly, but Sansa didn’t seem to mind.

“She’s hurting.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “She wants to find someone to blame. And you were always her favorite victim.”

He childishly took his phone from his pocket to pretend not to hear, but hummed all the same to let her know that he was paying attention. “I’ve put up with her hatred all my life, Sansa. You don’t have to worry.”

“I know. I’m sorry…” She said gliding her fingers on the soft sheets. “I just… worry about her, and you.”

“I’ll try to avoid her harder.” He conceded, but it wasn’t what she was seeking with this conversation.

“He was the love of her life…” Sansa spoke in a dreamy way. “Have you ever loved someone like that?”

He observed her for a while, tearing his eyes away from his phone. “No.”

“Me neither.” She said as their eyes met.

A moment passed between them, neither averting their eyes. Eventually, Sansa sighed deeply and said. “We’re getting these sheets for you.” And Jon was surprised.

“For me?”

“Yeah. When was the last time you bought sheets?” True, he never bought them. They had employees that did that. He didn’t have to answer when she continued. “Thought so.”

“I have to go back, Sansa.” Jon said leading her to the cashier by putting a hand on the small of her back and urging her forward.

In his office, Jon found himself surrounded by his family, each expecting something different from him. Robb wanted to know what to do all the time. He wasn’t really helping these past months, like his father asked. Jon wasn’t able to explain the really ugly parts of the job that he willingly did when Ned was alive. So his brother just stood still reading contracts for their legal (though fake) companies. Now he is on Jon’s heels complaining that he was more useful in the Reach. Jon kind of agreed.

Sansa was also there, which she has been lately. She’s _there_ a lot. They don’t talk much, but she listens and listens. Jon was a little nervous around her when she started doing this, sitting in his office _listening_ , but now he is used to it and he is partly glad that someone in the family is taking interest in learning.

Arya was there too, bringing information that Varys found about Daenerys Targaryen. “This is good, isn’t it?” Jon told Arya with a small smile. “If we use it right, we can pop that self-righteous bubble she created around herself.”

“I still think it’s sexism.” Arya replied evenly.

“That’s because it is. We are using it.” Jon said already sending texts to Varys. They have around ten pictures of Daenerys making out with a man, his hands on her ass, her breasts, her hand inside the man’s pants. All very shocking for a girl who claims to still weep for her dead husband.

“It’s still not going to be enough.” Arya said as if Jon was making the wrong decision.

“I know it won’t. Hopefully she murdered someone and we’ll find out. Everyone has skeletons in their closets. We just have to find hers.”

“Even if Stannis wins, Jon, he isn’t on our side. We can’t pretend he will help us.” Arya was right, he knew.

“The senate will help us control him.”

Surprising Jon, Sansa, who was sitting in the couch for the whole conversation, spoke: “What if there’s someone else?” She asked.

“Who?” Arya asked looking at her sister.

“What if we had someone of our own running for governor?” She said looking at Robb. “He’s clean. He worked for free for years in the Reach, he’s cute, young, intelligent. He can be charming.” She counted her brother’s qualities. “He’s a lot more charismatic than Stannis. He can win the primaries easily.”

When she stopped talking, all of them looked at her with shocked eyes and open mouths. Jon and Arya looked at each other as if they were already planning for the future. “I don’t want to be governor.” Robb stammered a little.

“You don’t have to do anything.” Jon told him quickly.

“You can reopen your practice in the Reach. It will help.” Sansa told them and they agreed. “How long have you been going out with your girlfriend? Would she accept if you proposed to her?”

“What?!” He asked. “I won’t! She’ll break up with me!” He said freaking out a little bit and Jon chuckled.

“She’s almost 30, Robb. She will accept if you propose.” Sansa told him. “It’s better if you are married.”

“Daenerys is not married!” He countered.

“She’s a widow and we are using her affair against her. We don’t want to give her the opportunity to do the same.” Jon said. “Ask her.”

Robb still fought a little against the idea, but eventually he accepted. Jon was really impressed by Sansa’s wits. It was there the whole time. Having Robb as governor could hurt them if they scrutinized Robb’s family life, but his brother had been estranged enough years to be able to distance himself if they found anything compromising.

He watched Robb leave the office dismayed, Arya giddy next to him telling him what to do, but Sansa stayed sitting on the couch that he started to think it was hers. “That was very clever.” Jon told her giving her a glass of whiskey.

“Thanks.” She said and coughed a little with the strong beverage burning on her throat. Jon laughed despite himself.

“It’s strong.” He said extending his hand to take the glass back, but she refused.

“It’s okay.” She said. “I want to help, Jon. I don’t want to be like my mother.” Sansa spoke carefully and she looked at him directly in the eye. “I want to know everything about this business.”

Jon listened and nodded, his chest expanding in pride. All he wanted to do was lean her on the couch and kiss her senseless.

“You will always have a say.” He told her and she simply nodded.

Another moment passed between them and Jon was starting to see things. He saw her eyes averting his and landing on his lips. He was mistaken, certainly. She would never. She’s a princess. Princesses don’t go around lusting after their bastard brothers.

“Father always said we were wolves.” She said as if she hadn’t stared at his mouth for a solid minute.

“The pack survives.” He followed her thoughts. She nodded again.

“I am a Stark.” She was a fierce thing, he thought.

“You are.” Jon conceded.

“You are too.” She finished and this time Jon didn’t say anything. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to sign his name as a Stark. He wanted so much that he devoted his life for his father’s legacy. All Jon ever sought was validation, which his father granted before dying. But hearing that from Sansa’s lips almost made him cry. He felt his throat constrict and he swallowed a sob.

“I’m really not, Sansa. I’m a Snow.” It was a name his father had made up and given him, falsifying his birth certificate.

“You are a Stark. As much as I am, or Arya or Robb. You are a Stark to me, Jon.” She held his right knee on her hand and suddenly all he felt was desire.

He never replied and averted his eyes. Jon sipped his drink and prayed that Sansa got a clue and left his office so he could jerk off thinking about her. Afterwards he would feel like a creep and sometimes he even cried. It was unbecoming of him, he knew, and he would do anything to stop feeling the way he felt for Sansa. But she never left, she stayed and stayed and her presence was starting to feel like a constant in his life. Sansa didn’t speak much, but she was there and Jon couldn’t figure out if it was a blessing or a curse.

“Do you want to help?” He asked eventually.

“Of course.”

“Call Varys and ask him to assemble a team to support Robb’s candidacy.” Jon spoke in his business voice. “We don’t have much time.”

“Yes, Lord Snow.” She said in jest and he couldn’t help but smile when she took her phone out of her pocked and walked away from his office.

* * *

It all started with a simple statement.

“You should sit on father’s chair.”

They were having dinner and the empty seat their father left was like a ghost haunting them.

Arya was always on his side. She could never agree or stay silent when Lady Stark mistreated Jon when they were children and now that Jon officially took Ned’s duty, she felt like she could provoke her lady mother a bit, since he chose Jon to succeed him.

“Arya.” Jon said looking at her pointedly. “No.”

“It’s only right.” She said and the rest of the family remained silent, except the twins, who talked amongst themselves about dragons.

“I won’t permit it!” Lady Stark shouted suddenly.

Sansa and Robb pretended they hadn’t heard anything and remained eating their food.

“He is father’s heir.” Arya said, not letting it go.

“He is not a Stark! That bastard cannot sit on my husband’s seat!”

“Arya, stop it!” Jon hissed, but she ignored.

“Mother, you know I’m right. It is his rightful place at the table.” She said with a grin, mocking her mother’s sensibilities towards a chair.

“Arya!” Robb said suddenly. “Stop that. You know it’s not Jon’s place.”

At this, Jon stopped his fork midair and looked at his brother. Robb never treated him badly and never denied their relation as brothers, but there was always a feeling of condescendence when they talked about their father and Jon’s suffering on Lady Stark’s hand, he pitied Jon.

Glaring at his brother, Jon quietly took his plate, stood up and sat on their father’s chair. He watched evenly when Lady Stark turned bright red in fury and stood up, leaving the dining room.

Jon seemed unaffected, as he finished his meal quietly, not looking at anyone particularly.

“That was unnecessary, Jon.” Robb told him also leaving the table and running after his mother.

“It was not.” He said before Robb could leave.

It was, though, he thought. He looked at Arya briefly and she had that annoying smirk on her face. He wanted to look at Sansa, who sat beside him next to what was Catelyn’s seat, but he was afraid to see if she disapproved. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and saw a small smile on her lips, not a sarcastic one that graced on Arya’s, but a true smile that he didn’t know how to interpret.

“You can’t let her treat you like dirt. You are the head of the family now.” Arya said with her fist supporting her head on the table. “She’ll get over this eventually.”

“Arya’s right.” Sansa spoke for the first time. “Mother can’t treat you like this.”

Jon was silent. He didn’t particularly agree, he didn’t need to sit on that chair to feel like he is in charge. He didn’t need Lady Stark’s approval anymore. Jon was surprised that no one commented that what triggered his reaction was Robb’s words, which surprised him as well. Since when did he hold such a grudge towards his half-brother? Robb had always been his best friend when they were children and his confidant when they turned teenagers. Robb was the one to help Jon pass the order with his tips and helping him study. They were partners. What happened?

Before he could muse on that, however, he heard a deadly scream coming from upstairs.

“HELP!” Robb cried. With wide eyes, Jon and his siblings ran towards the stairs to find Robb with his mother on his arms. She had her face screwed in pain, her hand clutched on her chest.

Sansa shakily called the ambulance while Robb carried Catelyn to the hall.

As if waking up from a dream, Jon found himself in a hospital bench, waiting for the news on his step-mother. Both of his hands were on his face, as if hiding. Scratching his beard, he tried to look around and saw Robb next to him with his arms folded, waiting. Arya was against the wall, her face placid and unreadable. Sansa had the twins on each side of her on the small couch in the waiting area. He couldn’t listen to what she was saying, but he hoped she wasn’t making any promises. They didn’t know if Lady Stark was going to survive, she was already half-dead when they arrived in the hospital.

He thought of the boys. How would they do without their mother? They were still very young and just lost their father. He would have to hire a nanny, which Lady Stark always refused. They seemed scared, especially Rickon. He hid on the crook on Sansa’s arm, while Bran looked at his sister intently, trying to understand what she was saying. Jon finds Sansa’s eyes and he can see all the sadness and apprehension she’s feeling. The fear of losing the last remaining parent she had written on her face and suddenly she is a girl again, begging for his protection against bullies in primary school.

He averts his eyes when he hears his phone ringing. It is Rodrik.

“Boss.” He says quietly.

“What?” Jon’s voice is rasp.

“I think your sister’s right.” Rodrik says and Jon waits for the explanation. “Joe and Rony are talking to more people than they should about the product.” The drugs, he means. “I think they want to steal it.”

“Shit…” Jon murmured. “Are you sure?”

“Not yet. We’ll only find out when they decide to rob it. I’d say the night the ship arrives.”

“Call Yorin” Jon said running his fingers on his hair. An anxious motion. “He’ll help you. I’m in the hospital. Lady Stark had a heart attack.”

“What?” Rodrik has always been fond of Catelyn. “How is she?” He asked quickly.

“We’re waiting for news.” Jon said detachedly. “Do not engage unless you have enough men. Be careful.”

“Sure.” And he waits. “Boss?”

“Yes?”

“Let me know if Lady Stark is well?” Jon often forgets that his step-mother is kind to everyone except him.

“I will.” He said before hanging up.

Jon quietly wondered if he should tell Arya about the container. He frequently finds himself unable to read Arya’s expression, so when he approached her, he said bluntly, “You were right.” She loved hearing that. “Joe and Rony have to go.”

Arya simply nodded, her eyes were as indifferent as before. He took that cue to leave her be.

He was restless, the wait only heightened the guilt feeling in his chest. This heart attack was Lady Stark’s last cruelty towards him. Make him watch her die because he was petty enough to ignore her sorrow.

Jon sat back next to Robb and watched his brother frozen in his seat, he hadn’t moved since they arrived and Jon wondered if he blamed him. He opened his mouth to speak, but before any sound met air, the doctor that was taking care of Catelyn appeared through the wide door.

All of the Stark children stood up quickly, but the doctor chose to speak with Robb and Jon only, taking them to a private room.

They knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t survive. The doctor was very sensible in delivering the news, but Robb fell down on the floor just the same. Jon watched his brother crying like a child and he couldn’t do anything to lessen the pain he was feeling. He knew he was going to be the one telling his other siblings of Lady Stark’s death and he grimaced, kneeling down and taking Robb into his arms.

Only six months. That was how long Lady Stark lived without Ned. Only six months without the love of her life.

Suddenly, Jon noticed someone tapping on his shoulder. It was the doctor, forgotten the minute he told them about his step-mother’s death. Apparently it wasn’t all he had to say.

“Her heart was weak.” He told Jon. “But what caused her heart to falter were the pills.” He said showing a sheet with the name of the drugs in her system.

“She OD’ed?” Jon asked with surprise.

“Yes.” The doctor continued. “We can’t tell if it was accidental or intentional.”

“Suicide?” Jon was dumbfounded.

“We can’t say for sure.” The doctor said and bid goodbye.

Jon looked at Robb, who was still crying over his mother and wondered if he should tell them about this information.

Walking his way to the other Starks, he saw Sansa, Arya and the twins and decided that he would never tell.

* * *

It was only a week after Catelyn’s funeral and Robb found himself saying ‘yes’ in a courthouse. His wife was not wearing a white wedding dress, it was a light blue dress that covered her arms and didn’t show any cleavage. It was picked up by Sansa, who was in charge of the whole affair.

The journalists were already outside of the City Hall waiting for the newlyweds. It was important for Robb’s campaign, that they got happy pictures, so he, despite his sadness over losing his mother, put on a big smile and left with his bride around his arm.

Jon was proud of Robb’s sense of duty. He thought he would need more convincing, but maybe he was just in shock. Regardless, his brother was now married and officially running for governor. His Hand though, was still to be determined. Jon thought of Lord Glover, an old friend of his father, a corrupt politician who retired after losing the last election for senator.

He would ask for favors, of course, but he was known and they needed all the help they could get. Stannis had called them a couple of days earlier, giving them his condolences and bidding Robb good luck, as if they would need it to defeat him. Stannis Baratheon wasn’t a problem, but Daenerys was. The pictures they released on social media had the desired result, but still wasn’t enough. They needed more inside information about her misdeeds.

Robb and Jeyne were driven to the family estate, where Sansa put together a small feast. Some drinks, food and a band to celebrate the new marriage. There was nothing jolly about the party, though. Robb indulged his bride by giving her small smiles, but they never reached his eyes. It was clear to Jon, however, that his brother cared for his wife and that was enough. They could build happiness if they worked hard enough.

Jon had a glass of wine in hands and he was watching the kids from Jeyne’s family in the backyard playing with the twins. Rickon still cried every night, as it was to be expected, but Bran told Jon that he saw his mother at night, which gave him the chills. He never asked more afterwards.

Jon and Sansa took up from where her parents left off. Sansa woke them up every morning, peppering kisses on their faces very affectionately until they were ready to get up and start dressing for school. When they arrived, Jon made sure to spend time with them, watching a movie, helping with their homework, talking. Sometimes Sansa joined with a book and they read together for hours. It was terribly domestic and Jon could almost pretend…

“Do you want them?” Sansa asked taking him out of his reverie.

“What?” He asked furrowing his brows.

“Children. Do you want to have some of your own someday?” She sat down on the white, wooden bench in the porch, patting the empty place beside her, silently asking him sit down with her.

“Ah.” He said sitting next to her. “Someday…” But he couldn’t imagine marrying or having children with anyone while he had that obsession with his sister.

“I’ve always wanted to be a mother.” She said softly as if it was a secret.

“You’re going to be a great mother.” He said very honestly. Their proximity and the wine were making him feel lightheaded.

“Thanks.” She said wriggling a little until they were so close that their thighs touched. Sansa was wearing a light purple sundress and her legs were exposed. Jon looked down where her skin met the fabric of his pants and gulped tensely. He had to leave before he did anything weird.

But she looked at him so brightly, and for once she looked happy. Well, not _happy_ , but not miserable either. She has been so strong. Stronger than Arya, who practically disappeared. Stronger than Robb, who spent his days in his bedroom. And stronger than him as well, because he actually wasn’t affected by Lady Stark’s death, not like he was when Ned died. But he couldn’t imagine losing both parents in the spam of only six months. If he was in her place, he would have been a mess.

Here she is though, looking at him with a smile that could brighten the night, talking about the future, becoming a mother, while he could do nothing but stare at her, his mouth dry and heart beating fast.

He was such a fool for her. Him, a mob boss, owner of the biggest territory of the country, speechless because a pretty girl – his sister – sat next to him. Trying to get his wits about, he said, “The twins are getting better, I think.” His voice was hoarse and he hoped she didn’t notice.

“They are young. They’re going to adjust.” She responded a little sadly.

Suddenly, she wraps her arms around his torso, which almost made him drop his glass on the floor. His male instincts kicked in, however, and Jon put his hand on her the small of her back, curling his fingers on her waist. Sighing, Sansa leaned her head on his shoulders and said “It’s harder for us.” Gulping, he eyed his sister intensely, waiting for her to continue. “I feel so alone.”

“As long as I’m alive, you will never be alone, Sansa.” He blurted without thinking. It was truth, but she didn’t need to know how honest his feelings were.

She only nodded, her cheek rasping on his neck, which made him shiver. Jon closed his eyes and prayed to all the Gods that she didn’t notice. This wasn’t normal, he thought, Sansa was very affectionate to Robb and the twins, but never to him and never to Arya. When they were kids, she used to ignore him completely and he never minded really, his relationship with Arya and Robb had always been enough and as long as he stayed away from his step-mother, he was fine.

After that kiss on her graduation night, he practically ran away from her every time they were in the same room and he was lucky to leave for law school only a couple of months later. Now, however, something seems to have changed. It started with their embrace in front of the airport, and afterwards she felt more at ease with him, which made him tense.

Her afternoons in his office also became too frequent for his own comfort. He always felt self-conscious when she was there, but eventually he started to like having her around. How could he not? She was always sweet and often fierce when she was talking about work. Sansa was more involved in Robb’s campaign than he was and she was very serious about it. Arya noticed too, rolling her eyes behind her sister’s back when Jon agreed with Sansa despite thinking that she could be wrong.

He smiled more often too, when she was in his office. He observed her working, talking to Robb’s campaign manager, letting them know that she was in command, despite being a girl, despite being young. Jon liked it. It seemed to be the one thing Ned raised her to be. He would’ve been proud.

With his thumb circling her back, he absentmindedly comforted her.

“It’s not your fault.” She told him. And he didn’t need to ask what she was talking about.

“I think it is.” He said and his hand tightened on her waist. “But it won’t change anything. It’s my burden to carry.”

“It’s not, Jon. I know she was popping pills like candy.” Sansa said and he didn’t respond.

Truth is, he would be fine if they never talked about Lady Stark ever again. He didn’t miss her, but he knew his siblings did and he truly didn’t mean to be insensitive.

Jon felt his phone vibrating on his pocket and had to untangle himself from Sansa’s hold so he could answer it. He grimaced when he saw that it was Arya, she only called him when it was bad news, otherwise she would simply text him.

“Arya.” He said sternly. Sansa looked at him as he spoke with their sister.

“Ser Rodrik got shot.” She said quickly and Jon stood up with his eyes wide.

“What happened?” His hand was on his beard and he could feel Sansa’s apprehension on his back.

“There was a shooting in the docks, they were going to steal the container. Rodrik engaged.”

“Is he going to survive?” He asked and heard Sansa gasping.

“I think so. But you have to come over. There are bodies.”

“Joe and Rony?”

“They are alive. We caught them.”

“Good. I’m going right now.”

When he hung up the phone, Sansa stood up and followed him.

“What are you doing?” He asked his sister, noticing she was behind him.

“I’m going with you.” She said dismissively. “I told you I want to be involved.”

“This is not going to be pretty, Sansa.” He said low, getting close to her so people wouldn’t hear. “There are bodies. You don’t need to see it.”

“I want to, Jon. I will.” She said defiantly and Jon finished his glass of wine in one gulp. He grabbed her arm somewhat brutishly and started to drag her out of the party, mumbling ground rules. She would stay in the car, she wouldn’t complain if he told her to leave and she would take her gun with her.

Sansa nodded at his demands and watched her brother call Yorin. Jon told him to drive them as fast as possible to the docks and the driver gave him a look saying that Sansa should not go with them. Jon merely shrugged and put his hands in the air as if he had no choice.

Inside the car, Jon and Sansa didn’t talk. He was constantly looking at his phone, waiting for more news from Arya and Sansa felt a rush of excitement building inside of her. It was the first time she would see the violence that her father’s work entailed and instead of scaring her, it brought her a kind of juvenile curiosity.

They were close now. The smell of salt and rust was getting strong and they could already see the ships from afar. Jon’s phone rang once again.

“Yes.” He said austerely.

“Jon. Rodrik is in a coma.” Arya said carefully. “He might not live.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment, his expression went darker. “Don’t kill them.” He said simply and hung up the phone without saying anything else.

Sansa watched the whole interaction with interest. She eyed Jon openly, measuring his body language, but she stayed silent the whole way.

Approaching the docks, Jon could already see some bloody bodies on the floor. Yorin drove slowly now, carefully. He saw a small commotion ahead and Jon spotted Arya immediately. The car stopped.

“Stay here.” He warned Sansa without looking at her and didn’t wait for her answer.

Jon walked his way to Arya and she gave him a stern look. Two men at her feet, all bloodied and full of beat up marks, their hands held behind their backs. Their lips were swollen, their eyes bright red from punches. Looking at them with a serious expression, Jon took his pistol out of its holster casually.

“Rony, Joe.” He greeted them sarcastically. He knew these men, he never thought he would have to kill them. They kept looking down silently. “Did you really think you could steal from me this easily?” Jon asked ducking his head so he could face them. “How many men did you have? Five? You insult me with this careless plan.”

“Look at me.” Jon said almost softly. The two men raised their heads and looked Jon straight in the eye. “You know I will have to kill you now, don’t you?” He asked coldly. “Do you have any last words?”

Rony started talking, “Tell my wi-” but before he could continue, Jon fired two clean shots in their heads, their bodies fell on the ground making a heavy sound and blood stained the cemented floor. No expression could be read on Jon’s face. He simply looked at the guards that were with Arya and said, “Burn their bodies and bury the remains far away. I don’t want the police here.”

“Arya.” He spoke and she looked at him. “Tell our partners that Jon Snow is in charge now.” She grinned and nodded before she walked away alongside the guards.

He turned around towards the car, putting the gun back to the holster on his hip, and saw that Sansa looked at him intently. He knew it was shocking for her to see him killing someone like that, but he could not hide what he did any longer, not if she wanted to be part of this work. Arya was used to it, Sansa should be as well.

He opened the door and sat beside her silently. As the car started, Sansa asked:

“Why did they have to die?” She wasn’t judging him.

“They tried to steal from us. They thought that with Ned dead, it would be easier.”

She nodded and stayed silent the rest of the way home. When they stepped out of the car, Sansa held Jon’s elbow, stopping him in his tracks. “Go to my room tonight.” He furrowed his brows, but didn’t deny her request. She left and he watched his sister getting inside the house, still decorated for Robb’s wedding.

Jon didn’t speak to her after that. He watched as she talked merrily at Jeyene’s family, as if she hadn’t just witnessed a murder. She walked around the wide living room, taking care of the guests with a smile that he could only describe as strained. He kept pondering about her invitation. What did she want? Did she want to leave? Was that too much for her? And what time did she mean exactly? His palms were getting sweaty, he was anxious, especially because he was sure she was about to quit, leave their home again and never look back.

Eventually, the party died down and all he could see were empty glasses, dirty plates and his employees cleaning the mess. Robb had already left with his bride, they would live in the Reach, close to his practice. A deception. They reopened Robb’s office to work only on pro bono causes, selected carefully by his campaign team to make him look good.

Arya texted him to say that his orders were carried out and that she wouldn’t be returning home that night. He didn’t ask why. His little sister had her own private life that he never wanted to pry in. To be completely honest, he was a little bit afraid of what he could find out, so he just stayed out of her way.

Before going to see Sansa, Jon went to the twins’ room to tuck them in. Bran and Rickon were already in bed and their nanny, miss Mordane, was snoring in a rocking chair next to Rickon, a book in her lap. Jon didn’t want to disturb her, so he quietly moved to his side and kissed his forehead softly. “Sleep well, Rickon.” He whispered and his brother hugged him sweetly. Then, he went to Bran’s bed and did the same, but the dark haired boy wasn’t as affectionate as his twin, so he only nodded to Jon and turned on the bed, ready to sleep.

Closing the twins’ door, Jon walked up the stairs purposefully, wanting to know what Sansa wanted with him. He knocked on her door and she was still wearing her party dress when she answered him.

“Jon.” She said as if she was surprised. “Come in.”

He entered her room uncomfortably, not looking directly into his sister’s eyes. She motioned him to sit on the small sofa in her room and watched as she took two glasses and a bottle of wine that rested on her desk. She was waiting for him, then. But why? He didn’t say anything as she approached him with the wine and continued in silence as she sat next to him.

“I’m going to miss Robb.” Sansa said with the glass in hand.

Jon agreed after a big sip on his wine. “He can come home on weekends, but I doubt he will. Especially after the wedding.” He felt like sweating, sitting so close to Sansa. All Jon wanted was to get into what she wanted to tell him and leave.

“What is it that you wanted to talk to me, Sansa?” He asked, finally. She simply looked at him for a while before answering.

“Nothing in particular.” She said. “I just wanted a friend. I feel very lonely here, Jon, without mother and father. Now Robb left too and Arya never gave me the time of the day.”

“I don’t think you’d enjoy her company anyway.” He said half-joking. Although he and Arya had always gotten along, he had to admit that his sister was weird.

“The twins are my only distraction, but they are children… Don’t you want to be my friend, Jon?” She asked with a smile.

“I am your brother.”

“You are.” She said.

After a few moments of an awkward silence, she talked again.

“I need someone to talk, that’s all. It’s not like I can talk to psychologist about all of this.” Sansa told him and he noticed the way her voiced wavered for a moment. Her eyes a little redder.

“I know this life we live is difficult, Sansa. But it’s our duty to protect our father’s legacy.” Jon said as he got slightly closer to her.

“Sometimes I just want to forget it all.” She told him as tears formed on her eyes.

“Sometimes I do too.” He said with a hand on her cheek, wiping her tears from her face with his thumb. Their eyes connected and Jon felt his heart stopping for a moment. They were close, too close. He felt goosebumps on his skin with the way she gazed at him. He knew what desire looked like and he saw this on his sister’s face.

He removed his hand from her cheek as if it burned and averted his eyes, but he felt a hand on his chest, he looked down and saw Sansa’s delicate fingers tracing the fabric of his tie. His heart beat wildly now, he saw that she wrapped her hand around his black tie, pulling him closer. His eyes locked on hers suddenly, because he remembered this. So many years ago.

“I remember, Jon.” She whispered, their faces merely inches from each other.

“Sansa…” It was all he could say before their mouths crashed. His glass fell on her floor, shattering, but they weren’t aware of anything besides the feel of each other’s lips. Sansa moaned into him and he felt his cock getting hard immediately, his mind went blank from that moment on, his body working solely on instinct.

Jon held her waist, bringing her to his lap, her legs on each side of his hips. Their kissing wasn’t slow, delicate. It was wild, passionate and unstoppable. Sansa’s mouth opened, welcoming his hot tongue with her own. She rocked her bottom on his lap, chasing the feeling that made her moan, when she found his cock, even through his clothes, she started to rub on him, which made him leave her mouth to groan loudly, his eyes closed and his head resting on her shoulder. “Sansa.” He said again feeling her still moving on his lap, he was almost coming inside his pants.

Suddenly, he held her waist firmly and got up with her on his arms. He walked a few steps until he found her bed, dropping his sister. Jon looked at her with hungry eyes, her mouth swollen, red, her expression of pure want. He covered her body with his, capturing her lips again, his kisses were powerful and he used his hands to remove her underwear, he faintly noticed her legs in the air, helping the fabric out of her body. He stroked her thighs, never leaving her lips. He pinched and caressed her, teasing, until he finally found the slick warmth between her legs. “Gods, you’re soaking.” He whispered against her lips. He found her clit with his fingers and rubbed her softly, he saw when she tilted her head up, exposing her neck. Jon seized the opportunity to lick her neck, feeling the taste of her skin.

Jon felt like walking on clouds, everything was happening fast and slow at the same time. He decided that he needed to taste more of her body, know the flavor of her cunt.

Jon stood up, taking his blazer off noticing the way Sansa looked up at him, her eyes full of expectations. He loosened his tie and pulled his sleeves up. He walked across the bed, so now he was in front of it, facing Sansa’s legs. “What are you doing?” She asked in a whisper.

“I’m making you forget.” He answered kneeling and burying his face in his sister’s cunt.

Before she could react, his tongue found her clit with expertise. She squirmed under his ministrations, a gasp on her lips brought by the strike of pleasure that he was offering her. It didn’t take long before she was whimpering Jon’s name, shaking. Her hand reaching forward until she found his own resting on her hip, lacing their fingers together as he gave her yet another orgasm. Jon seemed unaware of her peaks, since he remained licking and sucking her, he only stopped when Sansa backed away from him, kicking his shoulder lightly, her face a mess of tears and sweat and her skin as red as her hair. “I can’t.” she said, “not again.”

He took the time to breathe, to regain some composure. He would spend the whole night between her legs if she let him. She still wore her dress and she looked completely spent. He was still hard, though. Inwardly, he thought about going to his own room and stroking himself, not believing she would let him fuck her, not after he ate her out like that, relentlessly.

“Are you alright?” He asked after his breathing stabilized.

“Better than alright, Jon.” She answered and he thought she looked like a cat.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked again and she frowned at him, wrinkling her nose.

“No,” she said taking his hand. “Stay.” She pulled him by the hand so he would lie next to her. They were sharing a pillow, so close that they were, but they didn’t say anything. Both looking at the ceiling, their hands still linked.

After a few moments of silence, Sansa turned to her side to look at Jon’s face. She put her hand on his hair, releasing his curls softly. She leaned in and kissed his lips again, but this time it was tender, warm, not feverish. He kissed her back immediately, resting a hand on her neck.

Slowly, Sansa started to unbutton his white dress shirt, exposing his chest to her. She glided her hand on his skin and he sighed on her mouth. Her hand was sliding carefully downwards, stopping only on the hem of his pants. Jon put his hand on hers and asked “Are you sure?” His hot breathing was on her cheek as he spoke.

“I’m sure.” She said and started to fondle his length slowly. Jon fell into submission, closing his eyes to wait for his own completion at her hands. But he was surprised when she sat on the bed to remove his pants completely and turned around to look for something in her nightstand.

With a condom in hand, Sansa removed her own dress, exposing her beautiful breasts to Jon, who boldly caressed them without shame. She let him play with her nipples for a few moments before she sat on his lap, moving with him inside of her slowly. Her eyes were closed and their hips moved harmonically, rhythmically. As if it weren’t the first time they were doing this. As if they weren’t siblings.

Eventually Jon grasped her hips and changed their positions, so he was now on top of her, moving fast and deep, eliciting moans from Sansa and getting close to completion. He hazily wondered if she could come once again, so he moved his fingers to her clit, but she patted it away, and he sought his own pleasure at last.

He came in complete abandon, crying her name against her shoulder, hugging her tightly.

The last thing he remembered was seeing his sister pulling a blanket on them, before tiredness overwhelmed him.

_To be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up:  
> A feast and a twist.


End file.
